Possibilities... Tim Drake/Resident Evil: Apocalypse
Title: Possibilities
Author: Feygan
Fandom: DC-verse/Resident Evil: Apocalypse
Disclaimer: I do not own the DC-verse, or Resident Evil.
LiveJournal: http://feygan.livejournal.com
Home: http://www.darkgesture.com/fanfiction.htm
.
Summary: This is just a little shorty-short. Not even a real story. Just a moment in time sparked off by the timfinity challenge.
.
.
They were coming closer.
He had been running for what felt like hours with no escape in sight. No matter how far or fast he ran, they always showed up, more and more of them. The walking dead.
At first everyone had thought that people had just gone crazy. But when someone was shot point-blank in the chest, then got back up again... well it was obvious that there was something a little more serious going on. And he was young enough to be able to simplify things to a one word explanation: zombies.
Running down the street, he cursed when he found the way blocked by dozens of zombies. With no other choice, he took his life in his hands and ducked around a sharp corner only to find himself in a darkened alley with no pass through. The sight of the brick wall made his stomach want to drop below his knees.
Spinning around to try to make his way back out again, he moaned when he saw all the zombies coming in after him. There was no fire escape. There was only smooth brick walls surrounding him. He was going to die.
For a fleeting moment, he was tempted to just give up. To just stand there and let himself be killed. But it was only a moment, and he wasn't that kind of boy.
"All right, this isn't going to happen, not like this," he gritted out.
Looking around frantically, he spotted a steel pipe leaning against one wall. He grabbed it up, testing the weight.
After a few experimental swings of the five foot pipe, he was assured that it wasn't too heavy, but that it had enough weight it could do some damage.
"This'll work," he said, spinning the pipe in his hands. He was suddenly glad that his cousin Raina had forced him to practice her baton spinning with her last summer. He had bitched and moaned at the time and had made her promise never to tell anyone about it, but now he was definitely thankful for the skill.
When one of the slow moving zombies finally shambled up close enough, he tightened his jaw and swung the makeshift staff. He "whuffed" a little at the almost unexpected impact, but there was something oddly right about it. He had never been much of a fighter, but he suddenly realized that he could be.
As the end of the pipe impacted just under the man's chin, there was a sharp "crack!" as the head snapped back and the zombie's neck was broken. The creature fell, and didn't get back up. It didn't even twitch.
Tim felt adrenaline surge through him, the flight instinct turning to fight. And it was good.
Facing down the rest of the zombies, he felt a feral grin stretching his lips. "Oh yeah, this definitely works."
=THE END=
Author: Feygan
Fandom: DC-verse/Resident Evil: Apocalypse
Disclaimer: I do not own the DC-verse, or Resident Evil.
LiveJournal: http://feygan.livejournal.com
Home: http://www.darkgesture.com/fanfiction.htm
.
Summary: This is just a little shorty-short. Not even a real story. Just a moment in time sparked off by the timfinity challenge.
.
.
They were coming closer.
He had been running for what felt like hours with no escape in sight. No matter how far or fast he ran, they always showed up, more and more of them. The walking dead.
At first everyone had thought that people had just gone crazy. But when someone was shot point-blank in the chest, then got back up again... well it was obvious that there was something a little more serious going on. And he was young enough to be able to simplify things to a one word explanation: zombies.
Running down the street, he cursed when he found the way blocked by dozens of zombies. With no other choice, he took his life in his hands and ducked around a sharp corner only to find himself in a darkened alley with no pass through. The sight of the brick wall made his stomach want to drop below his knees.
Spinning around to try to make his way back out again, he moaned when he saw all the zombies coming in after him. There was no fire escape. There was only smooth brick walls surrounding him. He was going to die.
For a fleeting moment, he was tempted to just give up. To just stand there and let himself be killed. But it was only a moment, and he wasn't that kind of boy.
"All right, this isn't going to happen, not like this," he gritted out.
Looking around frantically, he spotted a steel pipe leaning against one wall. He grabbed it up, testing the weight.
After a few experimental swings of the five foot pipe, he was assured that it wasn't too heavy, but that it had enough weight it could do some damage.
"This'll work," he said, spinning the pipe in his hands. He was suddenly glad that his cousin Raina had forced him to practice her baton spinning with her last summer. He had bitched and moaned at the time and had made her promise never to tell anyone about it, but now he was definitely thankful for the skill.
When one of the slow moving zombies finally shambled up close enough, he tightened his jaw and swung the makeshift staff. He "whuffed" a little at the almost unexpected impact, but there was something oddly right about it. He had never been much of a fighter, but he suddenly realized that he could be.
As the end of the pipe impacted just under the man's chin, there was a sharp "crack!" as the head snapped back and the zombie's neck was broken. The creature fell, and didn't get back up. It didn't even twitch.
Tim felt adrenaline surge through him, the flight instinct turning to fight. And it was good.
Facing down the rest of the zombies, he felt a feral grin stretching his lips. "Oh yeah, this definitely works."
=THE END=